


[Not] Just a Number: Wade Wilson Remix

by captain_americano



Series: Numbers!Verse [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Comedy, Coming of Age, Confessions, Crushes, Dark, Dating, F/M, Fighting, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Fourth Wall, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Growing Up, Identity Reveal, M/M, Major Character Death warning is for Wade so it doesn't count right, Mexican Food, Mutual Pining, POV Wade Wilson, Peter is underage but Wade doesn't dig that, Pining, Self Harm, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Suicide, lets see, of course, ok, suicide ideation, what fourth wall?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano
Summary: Wade Wilson meets the newest Avengers recruit and is heart-eyesing all over the place... Until he finds out Spider-Man's age. After that it's probably the x.x eyes or something.**Currently on hiatus**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Not] Just a Number](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11470518) by [captain_americano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano). 



> *Currently on hiatus -- see notes at end of most recent chapter for more*
> 
> Here it is, folks! The Wade Wilson POV remix of [Not] Just a Number!
> 
> A few things:-
> 
> \- First and foremost **POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS** -- At the beginning of the fic Peter is fifteen years old, but Wade doesn't know this and hardcore flirts with/objectifies him. When he finds out just how inappropriate he's been, it leads to self harm ideation, peer pressure from the boxes, and ultimately suicide. But it's Wade, so he regenerates. Will add another trigger warning in the notes of this chapter when I post. I accidentally triggered myself writing this [love yourself, captain_americano!] and would hate to do the same to someone else.
> 
> \- I'm trying extremely hard to keep the continuity between the remix and the OG, while making the remix as different, interesting, and objectively easy to follow as possible. Please bring anything that doesn't make sense to my attention so I can fix it up -- I don't have a beta, only my sleep deprived self to catch continuity errors.
> 
> \- I'm only halfway through writing this fic, and I wanted to start posting it to see if people liked it enough for me to continue it. This remix is getting trickier for me to write because of my current mental status, and trying to get into the mind of a character like Wade Wilson in order to write him is, for me, a dark and scary process. Except for when the boxes are behaving, both his and mine. Then it's fun. So much fun!
> 
> \- Speaking of the boxes:  
> [White]  
> {Yellow}
> 
> \- I have no real life experience with New York geography and idc if I got any of this wrong. It's fictional Manhattan, guys.
> 
> \- Chapter lengths will be extraordinarily inconsistent, haha soz xx
> 
> \- Have fun, drop me a line, and love yourself <3 xx

[New York, New York, what a wonderful tooooown!]

"Guys," Wade groans.

{Concrete jungle wet dream tomato, there's nothing you can do!}

"Really? Do we have to do this _every time_ we come to town? Also, I'm thirty-seven percent sure those aren't the right words, Yellow," Wade admonishes his boxes as he strolls through Manhattan.

[You know you love it, big guy.]

{Yeah, sing the chorus!}

"I'm not in the mood," he sighs, and he's really not.

{Cue flashback!}

Wade had just taken a job in the worst place in the whole world -- New Jersey. New Jersey sucked. It was like Florida, but without the suffocating heat and crocodiles.

[They're alligators…]

{Scaly skin, sharp teeth, hunger for human flesh; why are we splitting hairs?}

[Did you just use a semi-colon?!]

{Hehehehe… you said 'semi!'}

"Can it, we're flashing back, guys!" Wade whines.

So, New Jersey. It's like America's sweaty armpit. But, it had a nice little market of the black variety --

[Dial back the racism, _muchachos._ ]

{Black market! It's not racist, that's what it's known as! Black market is a very common phrase, everyone knows that!}

\-- and a tight little mafia, as well as a few gangs and many, many criminals most of whom had many, many enemies. And when they don't want to do their own dirty work, who do they turn to?

"Hitman for hire, merc for murdering, the one, the only, ah-Deadpool!" Wade cheers, giving a little fist pump as his boxes sarcastically slow clap him.

[Do we even have hands?]

{I mean, I guess?}

So, he'd been called to wipe out a few --

[Dozen. A few dozen…]

\-- gang members, which he'd done with grace and ease. Only when he met up with his employee, the old fart wasn't willing to part with the funds, and sicced his boys on Wade, figuring four against one was a fair fight when he didn't want the one walking away.

It was more than fair, really, Wade had taken the idiots out with ease, but not before they got in a few good hits, including one that left him clutching at his insides as they spilled to his outside. Hurt like a sumbitch, so he killed everyone nice and neat for wasting his time, and left without any payment.

"Can't believe I went all the way to New Jersey and being in New Jersey wasn't the biggest let down of the trip," he grumbles, heading to the park looking for that one street vendor he loves but can never find.

Of course, he could never stop by New Jersey without calling into New York and harassing the Avengers. And getting some'a that Gino's pizza.

{You pretend you're gonna harass them, but really you just want to impress them and try to join their boy band.}

[It's not a boy band. They have two females on the team. And now that you mention it, there isn't a lot of ethnic diversity either.]

{Big words for a tiny thought box in a tinier brain.}

[Man, that chick was running fast for someone in business casual and heels!]

Wade looks over his shoulder at the woman White pointed out and shrugs, "Alien invasion for one-hundred dollars?"

[I definitely hear screams…]

{Let's go see if we can steal some alien tech to sell to the highest bidder since our last job was a bust!}

"Aw, yis, bet I can get an eyeful of the Ass-vengers while I'm there! I'm heart-eyesing all over the place," Wade grins, heading towards the screaming. That's when his worst nightmare comes into view. Well, one of many, anyways.

[Oh, _hell no,_ I did _not_ sign up for a giant spider. Give me aliens _any_ day of the week.]

"But look! It's Iron Ass and the Red Man! I bet Cap's bootyliciousness is around, too!" Wade says in a hushed voice, watching the two Avengers taking out the spider one leg at a time. "Wait, where _is_ everyone else?"

{Oh-oh, hottie with a body, on your three!}

Wade looks to his right and sees movement in the tree line and spots a red-and-blue suited hero -- was he creating a giant spiderweb?

[He's trapping the spider, genius. With webbing.]

{Is he a spider-themed superhero? What will they come up with next!}

[He's been around a lot longer than our fine ass.]

"Arent we also forgetting about a certain, terrifying Russian spy, code name: _Black_ _Widow?"_ Wade asks his boxes with a snort, and goes over towards the new spider-hero to investigate further. As he approaches the arachni-hero he notices that this one, too, has an extremely fine booty, and well defined muscles in his arms and thighs.

[And a six pack to rival our precious wine coolers!]

{*Dreamy sigh*}

The hero hasn't spotted Deadpool, but he _has_ spotted something else.

"Uh, team, it's laid eggs," he announces, pressing a finger to his right ear, and Wade could swim in that sweet voice. He decides to take action.

"Never fear," he shouts, unsheathing his katanas and slicing through the eggs, "Deadpool is here!"

He thinks the hero may be talking on his comm again, but Wade ignores him in favour of taking out the eggs. Once the job is done, he sheathes his katanas and bows at the waist exaggeratedly.

"Please, hold your applause, I don't do it for the gratitude. And who are you? I've never seen your bubble butt bouncing around with the Assvengers before," Wade smirks, flexing his muscles at various angles, trying to impress the newcomer.

[Tone it down a little there, big guy, no one likes a show-off.]

{Tone it _up,_ big guy! Suck his dick, yo!}

"I-I'm Spider-Man," the hero stutters, and isn't that just too cute!

[I want to pinch his cheeks!]

{I want to pinch his ass!}

"Ooh, are you sure you're not Alanis Morissette, because isn't it ironic? Did Spider-Man really just help take out a big ass spider?" Wade giggles.

"Who's Alanis Morissette? Who are you?" Spider-Man asks, sounding annoyed.

[He sounds _young,_ actually. _'Who's Alanis Morissette?'_ I guess it's true, I guess only nineties kids remember the nineties.]

{Weren't we drunk for most of the nineties?}

[I don't think we were even written until the nineties… How did we spend our first decade after our creation?]

"I can answer that," Iron Man says, making a dramatic entrance as always. "Wilson, never good to see you."

"Back at you, bitch," Wade replies with a grin, raising a one-fingered salute to the dick.

"Wade," Cap calls, jogging over in slo-mo like he's on Baywatch, "its been a while since you've been in New York. We were hoping we could have a little chat to smooth things over, if you're sticking around."

[Uh-oh…]

{Deny! Deny all responsibility for everything, ever!}

"I swear I didn't do it!" Deadpool whines, "It was that one!" He points at Spider-Man, who stays silent. His mask gives away nothing, either.

"Shut up, Wilson, you're coming with us," Widow grouses, trotting over from behind Cap, and Wade feels a volt of electricity running through him and crumples to the ground.

[Yeah, that's been a long time coming.]

{Surprised she didn't shoot on site.}

[It's only 'cause she knows it's a waste of bullets.]

"Potassium!" Deadpool groans loudly. "Potassium," he repeats as Iron Man grabs his arm and physically drags Wade behind him.

"What are you on about, you lunatic?" Iron Man asks, as they arrive at the Avengers' quinjet.

"It's my safe word," Wade tries poking his tongue out, only to have it hit the fabric of his suit.

"Um, Iron Man, don't you think you're being a little, uh, rough with him?" Spider-Man asks sounding uncertain.

"Aw, isn't he just adorable, getting all defensive over little old me," Wade smirks, making a pinching motion with the hand Iron Man isn't trying to pull from its socket.

"Trust me, kid, he can handle it, and more than that he deserves it," Iron Man growls before literally throwing Deadpool into the jet.

[Well that was rude.]

{And unnecessary.}

"And painful," Wade adds in a mutter as he pulls himself up onto one of the seats of the jet. Spider-Man sits across from him as the plane lifts off.

Wade can feel everyone who isn't flying the jet shooting him dirty looks, even Doctor Banner -- who'd skipped the fight but was hanging around for some reason -- was looking towards him with concern.

[They don't like you, why do you always have to show up and push their buttons?]

{If anyone could figure out away to permanently kill us it would be these guys, why, _why_ do you try so hard to piss them off?}

Wade doesn't give the boxes the satisfaction of a response, but he knows they're right. It's not like the Avengers will ever see him as anything but a threat, so there's no reason to even try getting on their good side. Before Wade can get too caught up in his own misery, Spider-Man speaks up.

"I'm sorry about Tony, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asks, and he sounds so genuine it's laughable. The team obviously haven't told the guy about the big bad Deadpool yet.

"LOL, no way. Man, you must be the new kid, huh? Don't know about the old 'Pool? These guys don't like me, which is okay because I'm an asshole and I do asshole things, but, like, for a buttload of money. But my superpower is like a badass regeneration type thing. I can shoot myself in the face and be talking to you like this half an hour later like nothing happened!" Wade rambles, not really sure if he's trying to convince the new guy to like him or not. He knows there's probably not a whole lot of point in trying, after all. Wade can feel the disdain emanating from the front of the jet.

"I, uh, I hope you're not speaking from experience…" Spider-Man replies, sounding concerned again.

[We're down to about once a week now, ain't we?]

{But we always come back!}

"Could be," Wade prefers not to think about it, just in case the boxes tempt him to do a repeat performance, "but the best part is my super penis. No refractory period, winky-face!"

{Best way to deal with real shit is to make a joke and move on.}

[We're so well adjusted. I'm proud of us.]

{Ask him on a date! I'm sure that'll go well!}

Wade finds that he's tempted. The new hero seems nice, which is rare, and has a great body which… Eh, pretty common in Wade's line of work, but damn, that booty…

{[Heart-eyes emoji times infinity.]}

It was rarer than rare that both of the boxes _and_ Wade all agreed on something, like a Bigfoot taking a leak into an erupting volcano rare --

{I can't believe we didn't have our camera for that! Rookie!}

\-- so Wade decides _what the hell._

"So I'm thinking after the A-Team tears me to shreds and I put myself back together, you and I go and get some tacos, right?" Wade asks, half nervous, half excited.

[You're setting yourself up for failure, man. You do know Yellow was joking, right?]

Wade ignores White and continues, "I know this place near the Tower, hopefully hasn't shut down since last time I was in New York, there may have been a couple of health code violations, you feel? But I shit you not, best Mexican this side of the border. And by border I mean the Canadian border, not the Mexican one, because everyone talks a big game about our maple syrup and our bacon, but it's our fuckin' nachos that are the real national treasure. And then maybe I can see if you're face is as fine as that bootay!"

Spider-Man's mask was impassive as ever for a few moments, but then he starts talking. "Uh, only the team knows my secret identity, and you're not -- I mean, no offence -- but you're not apart of the team and I don't really know who you are and I just…" he trails off awkwardly, but sounds genuinely apologetic.

"Aw, I'm just joshin' with ya, Spidey!" Wade says quickly with a laugh.

[See, I told you! You're a killer, he's a hero. He could never date a guy like you on principle.]

"I know that, but he doesn't need to know," Wade argues with White.

{Of course you would ruin this before it even starts. Look at how precious he is. And my god, he's got a great ass.}

"Yeah, he does…"

{But you're missing out because you're a terrible person and no one will ever love you especially not kindhearted heroes like little Spidey. You're a killer, not to mention your face looks like if the sun and the moon has unprotected sex and gave birth to gonorrhoea.}

"Shut up, Yellow!" Wade growls, not noticing Spider-Man standing and walking away. It's actually White that points it out.

[Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave.]

Wade looks up and checks out Spider-Man's tight ass and sighs, "We have to ignore that butt and focus on our own because soon enough the Avengers are going to kicking it outta the state, and possibly the country."

The ride is short, and before Wade has been given the appropriate time to panic, the jet is landing in the Avengers Tower, and Iron Man is stepping off with a pointed glare towards him.

"Come on, I'll take you to my apartment," Spider-Man says, not unkindly, walking back towards Wade and the exit.

"Ooh, Spidey, what kinda lady do you take me for? I don't put out on the first date!" Wade pretends to swoon as they step into the elevator. "I'm just kidding, I totally do, especially for a bubble butt like yours."

"You keep talking about my butt," Spider-Man says, sounding annoyed again, "Please stop."

"Aw, the new kid on the block is a prude. How boring. I'll corrupt you, yet, li'l Spidey!"

{I hear wedding bells!}

[I think that's just the elevator dinging…]

Spider-Man leads Wade through a sparsely decorated apartment and into a huge kitchen. Wade looks around, trying to figure out his best exist strategy if matters go south at an accelerated velocity.

{If shit goes down.}

[Thanks for clarifying, I never would've figured out what he was talking about otherwise.]

"Do you want a drink?" Spider-Man offers, opening the fridge and taking out a can of…

{Orange soda? What a dweeb.}

[I bet he's trying to poison us. It won't work, Spidey.]

"Not that I don't enjoy your company," Wade ignores the drink offer. Being poisoned wouldn't kill him, but it wouldn't tickle either. "But can we maybe skip to the part where you kick me out of the city with various threats?"

"Is that how it usually goes down when you show up?" Spider-Man asks, sounding intrigued.

[God, the Avengers really _haven't_ told him anything about us, have they?]

{This guy is too precious. Protect him! Itty, bitty, baby Spidey!}

"Baby boy, that's how it _always_ goes," Wade says, surprising himself slightly with the nickname.

[I like it.]

{We're such a good influence. Bet Spidey likes it, too.}

Wade isn't so sure, because Spider-Man seems dumbfounded for a moment, before rolling his mask up to take a drink, and sighing, "Not this time, man. I don't really know you, like, at all, so I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. Why did you come to New York, anyway? Is it for a job?"

Wade misses most of what Spider-Man is saying, but catches the end. He wonders if the boxes caught anything else.

{I wasn't paying attention, I was too busy staring at his lips. Wonder if we can get him to roll the mask up further?}

[Yeah, you're on your own, big guy, I was too busy staring slightly _south_ of his lips. His suit does _not_ leave a damn thing to the imagination.]

"Not this time," Wade shrugs, opening random cupboards and peering through them as a distraction from the other distraction, aka Spider-Man. "Though I thought I'd be able to make some connections." He didn't allude to the fact that the connections he had wanted to make were the Avengers, or that he wanted to join the team.

"Right, well if you're going to be sticking around I don't want any killing, okay?" Spider-Man says huffily. Wade snorts.

"So I can take jobs out of town, but as long as it's not in your backyard, outta sight, outta mind?" Wade rolls his eyes at the typical Avenger 'holier-than-thou' attitude. He delights in finding an adorable Iron Man mug that a certain tin man would probably _flip_ over finding out it belonged to his teammate.

"Okay, outta the cupboards," Spider-Man snaps, taking the mug and shutting it away in the cupboard before continuing. "I'd honestly prefer you don't kill anyone, at all, ever, because, y'know, killing is wrong. You do know that, right?"

"Right," Wade says, hoping it's the correct answer, as the boxes suggest he checks out more of the apartment. He heads out of the kitchen and into the lounge room, and spots a bookshelf filled with DVDs.

[Ooh, find out what kinda movies he's into. Y'know, for future reference.]

{*Winky face*}

"But the rest of the country isn't really our jurisdiction. If you kill on our turf we will have to stop you," Spider-Man says sounding uncertain. Wade manages to hold back his laughter, though it's a close call.

"That's cute. Many people have tried," he shrugs looking over Spider-Man's DVDs and chuckling to himself, "Disney fan, are we?"

{Yeah, I bet he loves the D(isney).}

"Focus, Deadpool," Spider-Man ignores the question, favouring one of his own. "How long are you going to be around?"

"I don't know," Wade shrugs, figuring it depends largely on where the rest of this conversation goes. "Try not to stay in one place too long."

Spider-Man is silent for a while, so Wade continues to pretend he's inspecting the bookcase, while really he's listening to the boxes argue.

[He's pausing for dramatic effect before he asks you to leave permanently.]

{He's probably sending out a spider signal for the Avengers to come and help tear us apart.}

"I patrol the city most nights, keeping an eye on things. Would you like to join me sometime? No killing, of course, but you seem like you'd be a pretty great ally," Spider-Man finally says, and Wade looks up at him, confused. Why would a superhero willingly spend time with Deadpool?

{To make sure you don't cause any trouble, fool.}

Oh, yep, that makes sense. "You were told to keep an eye on me, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Spider-Man says, and Wade supposes he appreciates the honesty.

"Eh, I'll take what I can get. It's a date!" He shrugs, and runs over to Spider-Man and hugs the hero, feeling all of that lithe muscle pressed against his body.

"Definitely _not_ a date," Spider-Man sighs, and pats Wade on the back.

{We are never washing this suit! He touched us!}

[You guys are so cute together. I ship it so hard.]

"'Course it is! We're gonna be best friends, Spidey, just you wait! Ooh, and if we're gonna be friends, you should probably know my name! I'm Wade Winston Wilson, but please don't bring up that atrocious middle name or I'll have to kill you. Can I joke about that? Is it funny or scary when I say it? I'm only kidding, Spidey, you're too cute to kill!" Wade steps back and pinches Spider-Man's cheek like he's been longing to do all afternoon.

"Okay, Wade, um, well I've got a secret identity… only the team know who I really am, and no offence, but since you're not exactly on the team --"

"I get it, I get it, can't trust the old 'Pool guy, it's cool Spidey," Wade shrugs, powering on before the boxes can interrupt him. "I'll earn your friendship yet, baby boy! So when's our first patrol? Should I bring anything? Flowers? Chocolates? Condoms? I've never done a patrol with a bona fide superhero before, everyone avoids me or yells at me. How should I wear my hair? Makeup or nah?"

{You don't have hair, dipshit, don't lead him on.}

[Yeah, and even makeup can't help your butter face.]

"Just bring yourself, and _non-leathal_ weapons, please. I guess tonight is as good as any, so I'll see you at nine? Meet me on the roof of the orange building on South Street and we'll work our way up through the city, alright?" Spider-Man says.

"Sure thing, Spidey! Aw look at me planning a date with a cute guy! Don't pinch me, I don't wanna wake up!" Wade sighs dreamily.

"It's not a date, and you haven't seen my face, how could you possibly know if I'm cute or not?" Spider-Man asks.

[Goddamn it, Spidey, stop ruining this with logic!]

{That voice plus that ass equals Sexy McSexyson.}

"Your voice, and your butt," Wade agrees with Yellow.

"Very scientific," Spider-Man says. "Come on, I'll show you out."

"Oh, no subtlety with you, huh Spidey? You take yours and kick 'em to the curb?" Wade rolls his eyes, and Spider-Man shows him to the elevator.

"Shut up," the hero says, and for once Wade listens, because he _really_ doesn't want to piss off his Spidey.

\--

{He's not going to show up, I bet you anything.}

[He'll show up. He doesn't seem like a liar. He'll be here.]

Wade feels a little ridiculous, sitting alone on the edge of the orange building on South, listening to his boxes argue about whether or not Spider-Man would show up. Wade had brought along a big bag of tacos, with extra for Spidey. Wade was well into his share, so he didn't think he'd be too upset if Spider-Man decided not to make an appearance.

[Liar. But don't worry, he'll show.]

"Wouldn't count on it, Whitey, the Avengers have had plenty of time to give him the DL by now, and we ain't exactly got a gleaming record. Doubt the newest Avenger wants to be caught hangin' around a known mercenary," Wade shrugs fairly. Before either of the boxes get a chance to respond, Spider-Man comes swinging down the block and lands steadily next to Wade, who rolls his mask back down before the hero gets too close.

"Hey, Deadpool, how was your afternoon?" Spider-Man asks pleasantly and the boxes cackle.

[Isn't he precious? So polite!]

{Dude, he is _so_ out of our league we're not even in the same sport. He's like NBA, and we're curling.}  
  
"Hey, curling is a national treasure! It's like ice hockey crossed with shuffleboard -- you can't get more Canadian!" Wade hisses to Yellow.

"Sorry?" Spider-Man asks, sounding confused.

"Nothing," Wade says quickly, picking up the bag of tacos and shaking at Spidey. "I brought dinner!" Spider-Man cocks his head to the side, and Yellow cooes in Wade's head. "They ain't poisoned, man, well, they might not sit well, but that's the risk with inauthentic Mexican, right? And _authentic_ Mexican, now that I think about it…"

Spider-Man hesitates for a moment longer, and then he sits down next to Wade and slowly takes the bag and peers inside. "Thanks, Wade," he says, grabbing a taco and rolling his mask up to just above his nose. He takes a bite of his taco, and groans. "Oh, man, this is _good."_

{Bet he'd sound like that bouncin' on our dick.}

[Quit staring at him, doofus, you're gonna creep him out!]

Wade heeds White's warning, and looks out over the bay towards Brooklyn. "So what's the game plan for tonight, Spidey?"

"I usually just swing around for a few hours, checking out different parts of the city. I try to stay off the other heroes' turf, learned _those_ lessons the hard way, and I keep my eyes and ears open to any signs of trouble. If more than an hour passes without any action, I call it quits and head home," Spider-Man says, polishing off his taco and grabbing another one.

"I ain't got the swing-y thing or flyin' powers, man, and I'm not usually the one stopping the crime, either," Wade says uncertainly, ignoring the boxes' boos and jeers.

"Eh, you gotta start somewhere," Spider-Man shrugs, and Wade thinks he can pick out a slight Queens lilt to his accent. "We can take things slow. God these tacos are amazing! Anyway, seriously, how was your afternoon, man?"

"What?" Wade asks, confused.

[He's making small talk.]

{With a killer, LOL. What a weirdo.}

"How was your afternoon? You get up to anything? Like, apartment hunting or whatever? Not that I'm trying to check up on you, man, Tony has all that security stuff sorted. He's got eyes and ears on the whole city, probably state. It's a little unnerving, really," Spider-Man rambles, and Wade smiles. It's always fun meeting another chatty person, they're harder to annoy, and even though Wade _loves_ annoying people it's a pretty lonely hobby sometimes.

"Nah, I'm staying with an old friend while I'm in town. She likes to _see_ me every once in a while, so I always call in while I'm in town," Wade giggles at his own joke.

['Cause she's blind. It's Blind Al, y'all.]

{I think they got that… give them some credit.}

"Did you do anything fun Spidey? Did the Avengers have their routine post-battle pillow fight in their underwear? No, don't tell me, I don't want the illusion ruined," Wade sighs, imagining Captain America in tighty-whiteys duking it out with a scantily-clad Black Widow.

{Fantasy threesome!}

[Though, we might need to revise that with all these new additions to the team…]

"That's not what happened at all," Spider-Man chokes on his taco and Wade sees a faint blush peeking out from under his mask.

{Red alert, this is not a drill, we have a blusher, I repeat: not a drill!}

[He seems like a bit of a prude. Let's wreck him!]

"Actually, we had the debrief, which was ridiculous. I mean, we were all there, fighting the damn spider, why do we have to relive it and analyse every move and counter move? So boring, man. And then the paperwork, the field reports, the medical examinations that are required even though _nothing happened and I was totally fine,"_ Spider-Man grumbles and Wade laughs at him.

"What, was this your first outing with the A-Team?" He teases, and Spider-Man turns to face him.

"Actually, yeah, it was."

"No shit, really?" Wade hums, appraising the hero. "I saw your moves, it didn't really seem like your first time."

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot of time to practise on my own," Spider-Man shrugs, finishing off his second taco and reaching for a third.

"Suddenly I feel like we're not talking about Avengers excursions," Wade grins, waggling his eyebrows at Spider-Man, who grimaces.

 _"Anyway,"_ he says pointedly, and Wade imagined he was rolling his eyes, "we should probably get a move on. Crime to stop, people to save."

"The good fight!" Wade cheers.

"Yeah, the good fight," Spider-Man smiles, and rolls down his mask. "Jump on my back and I'll give you a lift to the street."

"Uh, I may have skimmed your origin story, so I'm assuming a piggy-back won't crush you like a bug?" Wade checks, wanting to be certain.

"Proportional strength of a spider," Spider-Man shrugs and holds up his right hand, "high-five!"

"Is this what's cool with the kids nowadays? How nineties," Wade comments, before complying and high-fiveing Spider-Man. His hand sticks to Spider-Man's. "What the hell?"

"Microhairs," Spider-Man explains, "Tony helped design the suit so I can utilise them through the gloves. At first it freaked me the hell out, and I could not control them at all," he pulls his hand away from Wade's with ease, "but I got it all figured out now," he finishes, sounding proud.

[Too. Damn. Cute.]

{I love him. Itsy, bitsy Spidey.}

"Crime fighting?" Wade reminds the hero before he says something embarrassing.

"Yeah, let's go!"

Over the course of the night they make their way up through Soho, West Village and Chelsea. They stop two robberies, break up a bar fight that had spilled to the streets, stop a freaking _murder,_ and, at Spider-Man's insistence, stop to give some tourists directions to Broadway. Things are really quiet, according to Spider-Man, so by the time they get to Midtown, he tells Wade he's just going to head back to the Tower. It's just past two in the morning.

"Hey, good job tonight, Wade," Spider-Man says when they arrive at the base of the Tower. "I really appreciate the help."

"No problemo, Spidey!" Wade grins, ignoring the boxes who are telling him to kiss the hero.

"Well, goodnight," Spider-Man says, pressing his hands to the side of the building and climbing a few feet.

"Wait," Wade says, something occurring to him as he watches Spidey leave. "I know you gotta protect your identity or whatever, but can I just get a name? There's, like, millions of names shared by billions of people. A name won't do much harm, right?"

"Sorry, Wade," Spider-Man replies, pausing his ascent, and he actually sounds genuine. "I don't put out on the first date."

[:O]

{Ooh, Spider-Man's gettin' sassy with us! I like it!}

"That's okay, I'll just guess for now. You seem like a Tobey, I bet that's your name!" Wade gives him a double thumbs up.

"I seem like a Tobey?" Spider-Man asks, "Should I be offended by that?"

"Maybe?" Wade guesses, "I liked him better in _Gatsby._ Maybe you're an Andrew!"

"That's not my name, either," Spider-Man laughs, continuing his climb.

"Tom?" Wade shouts as Spider-Man becomes smaller and smaller. "It's totally Tom," Wade says to the boxes when he gets no reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning** self harm, self hatred, suicide, underage character objectification, boxes being jerks.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know how US/Canada border customs work? Is it like Europe where you're driving along and suddenly you're twenty minutes into another country without realising? I tried to research but I got nothing. I hope the CIA doesn't look at my browser history, because "how to smuggle weapons into Canada via car" was something I found myself searching while trying to write this chapter, hahaha!

Wade surprises himself, the boxes, and Blind Al by hanging around for longer than any stay in the past. After a few weeks of living with Al, he'd remembered why he'd moved out in the first place, and found a furnished apartment around Midtown.

He took occasional jobs to keep the money flowing, but none of them were past the state borders, and just far enough away from the Avengers' territory to keep them from knowing.

[Dude, they totally know.]

{Don’t ruin the fantasy, White, we gotta pretend we're good so Spidey will like us.}

[For some weird ass reason, I'm pretty sure he _does_ like us.]

Crazy as it seemed -- and Wade had thirty-one years' of crazy to compare -- for some reason Spider-Man actually _did_ like Wade. After a few patrols together, they had worked out each others' fighting styles to the point of being able to predict the others' next move and plan their own move accordingly. It was strange being so in sync with someone.

And aside from that, Wade had even thought that Spider-Man was starting to get a little reciprocal in the flirting game. At first he had seemed flustered by Wade's admittedly inappropriate comments, but nowadays he almost always had a quick response and a smile in his tone.

On top of all of that, across all of their shared rooftop dinner dates, Wade hadn't been able to avoid revealing his scars for very long, and the first time he caught Spidey looking at them the hero didn't vomit or run away in terror. He politely ignored them and kept ranting about how sick he was of Avengers briefings, despite the fact Wade knew he loved them along with any other chance he got to spend with the team. So, yeah, Spidey was cool.

{Let's not get ahead of ourselves, it's not like there are wedding bells in the near future.}

[Yeah, I can't even hear a squeaky mattress in your future with Spidey.]

 _"Someone's_ in a pleasant mood this evening," Wade grumbles at his voices as he makes his way to meet up with Spider-Man, even though they weren't technically scheduled to patrol together tonight. What, Wade couldn't spend time with his friend-slash-object-of-his-affections? It was starting to become more than a less-than-subtle appreciation of the hero's butt, and was wandering dangerously close to infatuation. Which never ended well for Wade.

He finishes the climb up to the rooftop where he's meeting Spider-Man, humming to himself.

"Hey baby boy! What's the word?" Wade asks, sitting next to Spidey.

"It's dead out here tonight man, so I brought the fixings for a Mexican fiesta," Spider-Man says, producing a huge greasy paper bag. "We got nachos, chimichangas, and churros for dessert."

"Oh, I love you," Wade says, making grabby hands at the bag. "Seriously, Spidey, please marry me. You know how to treat a girl right."

"Shut up, man, it's just Mexican," Spider-Man laughs, handing over the bag.

[Bruh, he brought you Mexican. He's so whipped!]

{He wants the D(eadpool)!}

They spend about an hour eating and talking, though as they agree to meet again the following night, Wade realises it was mostly him talking, as usual.

"… So I definitely think we should check it out, apparently it's going down around dusk," Spider-Man says, and Wade hadn't really been paying enough attention to know what he was agreeing to, but if it meant more time with Spidey he was down. Maybe he mentioned something about rugs at the clocks?

[Doesn't make much sense, Spidey...]

{Who cares? You care? I don't care. More Spidey!}

"Yass, seeya tomorrow then Spidey!" Wade replies cheerfully, and Spider-Man gives him an awkward little wave before swinging off in the direction of the Tower. The boxes hum in appreciation.

 

* * *

 

The next evening finds Wade with Beyoncé stuck in his head, which is all different kinds of appropriate for meeting up with Spider-Man. He finally finishes his haul up onto the roof where they had agreed to meet, singing quietly to himself.

[If there's one thing you're not -- it's quiet, my friend.]

"Hey, Wade," Spider-Man calls, and Wade is getting really sick of the uneven footing in the name department, and for the life of him hasn't been able to guess the hero's name.

"Hey, Thaddeus," he replies, throwing another guess into the mix.

{That’s why you haven't guessed his name, no living person in the history of the world has been named Thaddeus, that's disgusting!}

[Hey, now, I'm 100% sure that's inaccurate, and did you ever stop to wonder if any of the readers are named Thaddeus? Do you really want to offend the readers who leave kudos and comments and validate the author lady so she'll continue writing us? No, you _don't_ want to offend them.]

"Oh, god, no! My name is definitely _not_ Thaddeus," Spider-Man laughs.

"Thank god, I couldn't call you that to your face. Imagine trying to scream 'Thaddeus' while you're fucking me. _'Oh, yes, Thaddeus, more,'_ ugh, what a boner-killer," Wade shakes his head, sitting next to Spider-Man. "Not that I can talk, I mean, you've seen my face, right Spidey? Maybe I should change my name to Thaddeus. Hideous name to match my hideous everything else."

"Cut it out, Wade," Spider-Man says forcefully.

{Maybe he wants to bottom, Wilson, didja ever think of _that_ when you think about fucking him?}

[Yeah, that's _totally_ why he's telling you to cut it out -- your sexy time preferences.]

"Don't worry, we can switch it up, I give as good as I take," Wade offers generously.

"The docks!" Spider-Man bursts out suddenly. "We should definitely head to the docks, like right now. If we run into anything on the way, we should get there around dark, otherwise we can just keep an eye out."

{He's changing the subject because the thought of having sex with you is mentally scarring.}

"Yeah, yeah, work first, play never, I get ya," Wade sighs.

"I wouldn't say _never,"_ Spider-Man says weightily before swinging down to the street.

[Does he mean?!]

"Hey, not fair! It took me twenty minutes to get up here!" Wade shouts, bracing himself before jumping off the roof. It's only four storeys, so he rolls into the landing and only dislocates his shoulder and hip, and scrambles his brain a bit.

{What brain?}

Wade joins Spider-Man, who has just bought four hotdogs from a street vendor, and hands two of them to Wade.

"Wish you wouldn't do that, Spidey," Wade grumbles, accepting his hotdogs.

"Wish _you_ wouldn't do _that,"_ Spider-Man snorts as Wade rolls up his mask and shoves the whole hotdog into his mouth.

"You love me," Wade tries to say, though it may come out a little garbled from all of the food in his mouth. Spider-Man quietly rolls up his mask and takes a reasonable sized bite from his hotdog.

After they've eaten, they head to the docks and encounter an arms deal. Spider-Man lays out the plan, and then they're bursting into action, Wade talking out the four buyers while Spider-Man deals with the eight dealers.

Wade has his four knocked unconscious, and starts to round on Spidey's guys when one of them shoots and hits Spider-Man's right shoulder. _That_ pisses Wade off, so he takes out that guy and two more, and he hears a splash, and Spider-Man has disappeared.

{SPIDEY!}

[He's fine, he just lost his balance from the shot, he has super healing, not quite like ours, but he'll be up in a second, it'll be fine…]

Wade pauses for just a moment to watch the water still near where Spider-Man disappeared, but the dealers are rounding on him now, so he quickly takes care of the remaining guys -- _non-lethally_ even though he'd really like to shoot a lead bullet, _not_ rubber, at each of their brains for messing with Spidey.

Wade quickly dives into the dark, freezing water, and easily locates an unconscious Spider-Man and drags him back into the docks. The hero doesn't seem to be conscious, or breathing.

"Fuck, what do I do?" He mumbles, the boxes offer no help as they're near catatonic. "Uh, CPR?"

It sounds good, so he starts compressions, and he thinks he feels a couple of ribs crack, but he's gotta get Spidey breathing again damnit.

{The mask'll make it harder for him to breathe.}

Yellow sounds scared in his mind, and White seems to be whimpering, and it takes a lot to phase the boxes. Wade rips off the mask and flings it away without hesitation, pressing his ear to Spider-Man's mouth to see if he can hear breathing. He takes off his own mask to hear better.

{Nothing, nothing, nothing, shit, he's gonna die and we love him, he's to precious to die, shit, fuck, ballsack.}

"He's _not_ going to die," Wade growls, starting compressions again, and Spider-Man blessedly convulses, and coughs up a ton of water before gasping for air.

"Oh, fuck, thank god, Spidey, thought you weren't comin' back to me, I…" Wade trails off as Spider-Man sits up and runs his hand through his hair and shit, _he really_ is _cute._

[OH. EM. SQUEE.]

{Thank god you saved him, big guy, that face is too pretty to go to waste… but he looks kinda… y'know...}

"I'm sorry, they kicked you in the water and I had to take the rest of them down before they -- and then I dove in and grabbed you, I freaked out, I couldn't hear you breathing and I had to give you CPR, and--"

"No, it's f-fine, thank you for saving me, Wade," Spider-Man -- well, _boy,_ really -- rasps, looking up at Wade. It's not the first time Spidey has seen his scars, but it feels different now. Wade feels naked. "Really, thank you Wade. My name is Peter," Spider-Man -- _Peter_ \-- says, looking down at his hands shyly.

[Young. That's what Yellow was going to say. He looks kinda young. Really freaking young.]

"Peter… Wait, how old are you, Peter?" Wade asks, and Peter looks back at him, blushing in the pale moonlight.

"I'm twenty-six," Peter responds far too quickly for Wade's liking. "Have you called the cops yet? We should really get out of here."

Wade _hasn't_ called the cops, but the gunfire wasn't exactly _quiet,_ and while the docks were abandoned, they were still close to the residential area. Also, bigger fish.

"If you're twenty-six, then I'm Batman. How old are you?" Wade demands, starting to feel uncomfortable, as the boxes panic.

"Twenty-two," Peter sighs, and he looks away.

"Wanna try that again?" Wade is a career criminal, for god's sake, he knows when someone is lying to him.

"Fine, I'm nineteen, are you satisfied?" Peter rolls his eyes and continues avoiding Wade's piercing gaze.

"Nope. I'm going to ask one more time and I'd really, _really_ appreciate you telling me the truth, Spidey. _How old are you?"_ Wade asks, enunciating each word carefully, a hard edge to his tone.

"I turned sixteen a few weeks after we met," Peter finally admits.

[He was _fifteen_ the first time you hit on him.]

{You flirted with, checked out, and lusted over a _kid._ I knew you were sick and fucked up, but oh boy!}

[Yeah, man, this really takes the cake for crappy things you've done. You might've killed people, but those people were assholes who had it coming. This is a _child._ No one ever asked for your creepy ass to creep on a _kid.]_

{I always thought you had a limit, I thought _children_ were the limit, but this just proves you're inhuman. You're disgusting. I can't believe I'm apart of you. I'm so ashamed. I wish you would die permanently, so I wouldn't have to live in your fucked up brain.}

[There's no coming back from this, big guy, you'd better put an end to things. You're the lowest, scummiest person in the world, you need to stop inflicting yourself on others.]

"Wade?" Peter asks hesitantly, drawing Wade away from his boxes' harsh yet justified words.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, kid?" Wade says coldly, standing up and walking away from Peter.

"W-what?"

"Shouldn't you run off home to make sure your homework is all completed and get a good nights sleep before toddling off to fourth grade tomorrow?" Wade growls over his shoulder.

"What the hell man, I'm sixteen, so _what?_ That doesn't change anything, I--" Peter begins to protest, but Wade just snaps at him.

"Are you kidding?" He laughs derisively, turning back to look at Peter incredulously, "It changes _everything,_ Spidey."

"No way," Peter shakes his head, standing up and walking over to Wade. "I'm still apart of the Avengers. They know how young I am and they want me protecting the city, which I do. I swing around every damn night when I could be out at parties or, yeah, focussing on my homework so I can get into a good college, but instead, here I am with you, trying to help people.

"I didn't get shot tonight because of my age, I just wasn't quick enough. I'll heal from this wound, train harder, work on heightening my senses and maybe next time--"

"Okay, I'm outie, there's no way I'm working with a child," Wade holds up his hands in mock surrender, interrupting Peter again, because he just did _not_ want to hear it. "You want to get yourself killed, that's fine, but I'm not gonna hang around and watch," Wade says dismissively before running off.

[Did you see the look on his face? He looked like you broke his heart.]

{Yeah, because you're a sicko freak who mislead and influenced a child in the worst possible way.}

[You say you don't want to watch him get killed, but you _know_ he can handle himself… it's _you_ that can't handle yourself. You don't think you'll be able to keep yourself in check around him, do you?]

{All that flirtation, all those pet names, all of that staring at his ass. You can't just switch it off, you pervert, you have to keep away from him, because he's too innocent and precious, and you're a sick, twisted asshole who will just corrupt him.}

"Shut up, I didn't know!" Wade snaps, running through the backstreets to get back to his apartment. Didn'tknow, didn’tknow, didn'tknow…

{Why don't you try once more, for old times sake?} Yellow suggests as Wade bursts into his apartment and searches for the first loaded gun he can get his hands on.

[You gotta end it, you twisted fuck.] White -- who is usually the kinder of the pair -- jeers as Wade wraps his fingers around his colt .45 and shoves the barrel in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Wade wakes up with a massive headache, but he quickly packs his bags and leaves his keys and a wad of cash in the superintendent's mailbox.

Once he's outside in the frigid late night/early morning air, he drops his phone to the ground, stomps on it, and car jacks a Lexus that some schmuck had left parked on the street.

Wade heads for the border, but before he even hits Stroudsburg the boxes are making themselves known again.

[Been a while since you redecorated the walls, pal. Don't know why you bother, it never works.]

{Didja miss us? Where did we leave off? Oh, yeah… Teenage boy.}

"Shut the fuck up, I'm leaving, aren't I? I never would've… if I'd known," Wade growls, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

{Whatever you need to tell yourself, big guy. Anyway, where're we headed?}

[Our home and native land, by the looks of the route. You can run, but you can't hide, bitch!]

And suddenly the boxes aren't giving him shit anymore, they're talking about the trees and playing iSpy. They never had been particularly focussed or able to stay on one subject for too long, after all.

Wade stops once for gas, and changes into relatively clean civvies. He keeps driving well through the morning until he gets to the border. He keeps his mask off to deal with customs, and gets through without anyone searching his car because the officers are all too uncomfortable with the grumpy, ugly, scarred man and just want him gone sooner.

He ditches the car in Toronto and quickly finds one of his old contacts who immediately offers him a contract that would require a lot of time, and maximum effort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to anyone named Thaddeus. 
> 
> Also, thank you for your beautiful kudos and comments!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, as dark and angsty as it was...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, sorry my friends, I have a friend staying with me at the moment and there's been a lot of late nights and incessant quoting tv shows to each other, and very, very little productivity. None at all, in fact! However in the last 12 hours alone I've developed two new fic ideas, so I put them on the back burner and started chipping away at this fic again. Sorry! Hopefully the next update won't take so long!

The contract takes nearly two months, and takes Wade to Buenos Aires, Rome, and Dubai. It's good for taking his mind off things, mostly. Every now and then the boxes speak up about New York.

[I wonder what Spider-Man is doing… He's probably sitting his high school entrance exam right about now.]

{Things were going so well with Spider-Man. If you hadn't hit on him at every chance you got, you wouldn't have had to run away in shame, you could've kept working with him and maybe one day the rest of the team.}

[He's a good kid. You coulda been good friends. But you ruined it.]

{I bet he's doing really well without you, you only ever slowed him down.}

Yellow was harsher than White, most of the time, but really Wade knew they were both right. Whatever he had felt for Spider-Man was squashed when he found out Peter's age… So why did he miss him so much?

"I don't know why we can't just be friends. We worked together really well, it could go back to that, I can behave," Wade defends himself against the boxes after he's met with his contractor to give him the post-op report.

{Because you can't _ever_ behave. We _are_ you, Wilson. We know what you're like.}

"No, you're wrong, Yellow. I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna go back to New York and things are gonna go back to normal," Wade argues, his mind set.

[By 'normal' do you mean how it was before? Because that involved a lot of flirting and staring at an underage ass.]

"No," Wade whines. "Me and Spidey? Never gonna happen. I knew it before, I _definitely_ know it now, so all I need to do is dial back the personality. It'll be good for me."

{Yeah, your personality always gets in the way of a good thing. You're the worst.}

"Thanks," Wade replies dryly, hoisting his duffle further up his shoulder and making his way through the streets of Toronto. He easily finds an unlocked Toyota and starts the engine, and makes his way back to New York, a plan of action sitting firmly in his mind.

The drive to New York is shorter than it should be, Wade might've been a little heavy on the gas in his hurry to get back. As soon as he hits Manhattan, he ditches the Toyota -- maybe parking it illegally, but it's stolen, so who cares? -- and heads for Avengers Tower. He's not sure what he's gonna say to Peter, despite the seven hour drive he'd spent worrying about it.

{You're gonna fuck this up, man, like you fuck everything up.}

[I think we're well past the 'going to' phase, and we're straight into Fucked-Upsville.]

"Not helping," he mutters at the base of the building, contemplating the best way to get into the secure tower. To his luck, Steve Rogers strolls out of the building.

"Deadpool, what are you doing here?" He asks politely, looking surprised. "Last I heard from Spider-Man, you'd disappeared off the face of the earth."

"He talked about me?" Wade couldn't help asking, and the boxes cackle at him.

"Yeah," Steve frowns, "Quite a bit, actually. He asked Tony and Natasha to keep an eye out for any sign of you, I got the impression he was quite worried and had tried to contact you."

"Worried?" Wade repeats, feeling guilty. He actually hadn't considered Peter's feelings when he'd left, he'd just been caught up in his own drama.

"Oh, yeah, for sure," Steve says, sounding concerned. "Anyway, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. I'm not sure where he is at the moment, but I can let you up to the common floor and have FRIDAY alert him, if you want."

"You're gonna let me into Avengers HQ without an escort?" Wade asks, confused.

"Spider-Man trusts you implicitly," Steve replies simply. "He's said so, and defended you on many occasions. He is one of us, and so we trust him."

{Oo-ooh, your boyfriend has defended you to his friends!}

[*Kissy noises*]

"Do you mind if I go up and just… hang around for a little while? I promise I won't break anything!" Wade says eagerly.

"I suppose," Steve sighs, and swipes his card to let Wade into the building. He walks him to the elevator, and swipes his card again to open the doors. "Please take care to  _not_  break anything. And FRIDAY, keep an eye on him. Don't let him put anyone in danger."

"Of course, Captain Rogers," a disembodied voice replies. Wade rides the elevator alone, and steps out in the common room he'd been in only once before.

"FRIDAY, since when do we let dangerous assholes in the building?" Is the rhetorical question from Tony Stark that he's greeted with.

"Since Barton first stepped foot in here four years ago," Wade replies with a grin.

"Point," Tony shrugs, walking over to the bar. "What are you doing here, Wilson?"

For once Wade didn't have a smart-ass reply, because he just wasn't sure. He _had_ wanted to talk to Peter, but it hadn't really occurred to him that Peter mightn't want to see him.

[Disappearing off the face of the earth after a heart-to-heart isn't usually great, dumbass.]

"I know that _now,"_ Wade rolls his eyes at White's less-than-helpful comments.

"Hey," Tony snaps, clicking his fingers at Wade to draw his attention. "Why. Are. You. Here."

"To drink," Wade shrugs, joining Tony at the bar.

"You can't get drunk," Tony frowns, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"Don't shit me, Stark, you live with supers. I know you got juice that'll get me good and wasted," Wade grumbles, and Tony shrugs.

"Fair enough," he says, grabbing a bottle from beneath the bar. It didn't have a label, and the liquid was dark, but Wade didn't question it as Tony poured him a drink. "To huge flaws in my security," he toasts, mockingly raising his glass and downing the whole thing,

"Rogers let me in, actually. Think he wants me to make good with Spidey," Wade says, downing his own drink.

"Man, that kid has been a little _bitch_ for the past few weeks," Tony groans, pouring himself and Wade a round of the unmarked substance. "Won't talk to anyone about whatever it is, stubborn little shit, but he is pouting non-stop."

"I was kinda a dick to him," Wade admits, starting to feel the affects of alcohol for the first time in a long time.

"What a surprise," Tony mutters. "We _did_ warn him."

The elevator dings, and in walks man-of-the-hour, Peter himself. Wade's suddenly hit with just how _young_ he looks -- how young he _is_ \-- and he's just as angry as the night he'd found out. Maybe if Peter had just _trusted_ him earlier, he could've saved them both a lot of emotion.

"I thought you two didn't even get along. In fact, since when have you ever been in the Tower when you weren't under duress?" Peter asks, sounding hesitant. He looks so small and sad out of the costume. Wade notices he's slightly sweaty, and his shirt is clinging to his chest -- he must've just been working out.

[Eyes up top, pedo.]

{Yeah, don't be creepy.}

"Big words for a small kid," Wade raises his glass to Peter in a mocking salute, trying to piss the kid off so he'd just _leave._ Peter flinches.

[I thought we came here to kiss and make up?]

{Are you kidding? 'Asshole' is his default setting. He and Peter won't ever be friends after this.}

"Leave 'im alone, kid's a genius," Tony says with a slight slur, and Peter tenses.

"I'm not a kid! I'm sixteen," He says stubbornly.

{Hate to break it to everyone, but that technically makes him a kid, yo.}

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Peter asks Wade after a pause.

"Got nothing to say to you, Peter," Wade shrugs, refilling his and Tony's glasses. Maybe he did have things to say, stuff he wanted to talk about, but that didn't mean he could. Not with Peter standing there all… and the boxes being so… So instead, Wade tries to goad him further. "Want a drink? Oh, wait."

"Yeah, ha-ha," Peter rolls his eyes. "What are you doing here, Wilson?"

"Yeah, what _are_ you doing here?" Tony asks, only just realising Wade had successfully distracted him from that question twice already.

Wade _had_ come to try and mend things with Peter, but as his boxes so helpfully reminded him, he should've just stayed away. He needs to leave, and permanently, he knows this… but he also knows he can't. "No freakin' clue," he says, staring hard at Peter.

Peter rolls his eyes again and leaves.

"Teenagers, right?" Tony snorts once the elevator doors have closes. "You got somewhere to stay, Wilson?"

"What?" Wade asks, dragging his eyes from the elevator. "No. Why, are you offering?" He jokes, but to his surprise Tony nods.

"Whatever is goin' on between you and the kid, he trusts you for some reason. More'n that I think he _likes_ you, which is weird, because I'm fairly certain he's a smart kid. So I guess what I'm saying is: you can't be too bad if you got the Spidey tick of approval," Tony rambles, sounding a little out of it.

"Aw, I love you too, Tones," Wade coos, wrapping his arm around Tony's shoulder, but the older man shrugs him off.

"Don't mean you get to touch me, Wilson, or you'll have to regrow more'n one appendage," he growls without heat. "Thirty-seven is free, if you need somewhere to sleep."

"What floor is it on?" Wade asks.

"That _is_ the floor, dumbass," Tony chuckles. "It's yours if you keep up the good work you were doin' before you skipped town. That means _making up with Spidey."_

"Ugh," Wade groans, "we are professionals, y'know? We can work together without being friends."

"Whatever, just get him to stop moping," Tony shrugs.

 

* * *

 

Living at the Tower is… well, it's an experience. For some reason, everyone seems to be chill with the fact that the Merc with a Mouth is suddenly in their space all the time, and a guilty sounding White tells him it's probably because Spider-Man talked him up to the team. When they were friends. _Before._

At first Wade is too shocked by everyone's kindness to remember his snark, but after he's settled in (less than two days), he's back to punishing everyone. They take it surprisingly well.

Saint Rogers calls for a team dinner, to which he courteously invites Wade, and they buy out no less than six local takeaways. Wade notices Peter takes care to sit extremely far away from him at the massive dining table, so instead he runs his mouth to Scott, who is pretty quick himself.

"Look at us, couple'a long time criminals, breaking bread with the Avengers," Scott grins, taking a pull from his beer. Wade is getting some serious fanboy vibes.

"How long have you been working with them?" He asks, wondering if the novelty of working with the Avengers would ever wear off.

"Parker's been with us, what, six months now? So I started a few months before him, so I guess nearly a year?" He says, looking like he's trying to do the math in his head.

"And, what, you're one-hundred-percent legit?" Wade asks quietly.

"Yeah, man, once I was on the payroll I could finally pay child support and it didn't even put a dint in my bank account," Scott shrugs.

[Don’t tell me you think you can actually join the team! Hahahaha!]

{Yeah, man, it's one thing to stay here, but it would be a PR _nightmare_ if you were actually working with these guys. They wouldn't be caught _dead_ working with you.}

He ignores the boxes, and starts talking to Wanda, who he finds he has a whole lot in common with.

"Shit childhood, seedy 'government' experiments, loss of a loved one; you're my soulmate, Wanda Maximoff," he says, making heart eyes at her. At least, that's what he's attempting.

Wanda smiles serenely despite the topic of conversation, "You're right! We should run away together and get married."

"Oh, honey, wait 'til you see me in a white dress!" Wade gushes, and Wanda laughs.

"You do have the hips for a mermaid gown," she grins.

"I'll need one helluva veil to cover up this mug, though," he chuckles self-deprecatingly.

"Shut up, Wade," Wanda rolls her eyes, though it seems fond. Wade decides he likes her, and spends the rest of the evening chatting with her about their past lives. He thinks Peter is giving him the stink-eye, but he's not game to look over at the boy.

In the weeks after Wade moved in, he made himself right at home in the Tower. He was getting along surprisingly well with everyone, even the likes of Tony and Natasha whom he'd always assumed to be mega-douches. He made the mistake of taking up Nat's offer to spar, and it was the most fun he'd had in _months,_ even if it left him feeling -- and a close call to being literally -- emasculated.

"Come on, Wade, Barton's two-year-old hits better than that," Natasha smirks as she successfully dodges another attack and lands a swift kick to behind Wade's knees, sending him to the ground.

Wade swings around and grabs her left leg, quickly taking it out from underneath her. She lands on her ass, and retaliates with a swift kick to the face. He loosens his grip on her leg as his nose resets with an audible _crunch,_ and it gives her enough time to manoeuvre herself into his back and align his head and neck between her arms.

"Snap," she says gleefully, letting him go and gracefully standing.

"Don't turn your back for too long, a broken neck heals a lot quicker than a bullet to the brain," Wade pouts. Natasha smirks at him.

"Quick enough to stop me from separating you limb from limb and putting your appendages in small boxes on separate sides of the city?" She asks pleasantly, as though asking what's for dinner.

"You are truly terrifying," Wade says as he stands, taking a deep bow before her. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"I don't have any other sides," she says mildly, and leaves the gym.

Wade showers and heads up to the common floor, not particularly wanting to be alone with the boxes after taking a beating from Natasha. He finds Sam, Wanda, and Clint watching _Dance Moms,_ and he sighs but joins them anyway.

"I know that look," Sam grins at him as he sits on the far couch. "You just got your ass handed to you by Widow."

"She won, but she still threatened me!" Wade whines, "How unfair is that?"

"Poor baby," Wanda mocks, and Wade pokes his tongue out at her.

"It doesn't take long for the new guys to learn not to spar with Natasha," Clint chuckles.

"Never again," Wade agrees. The elevator dings, and out steps Peter, dragging a sullen looking blond behind him.

"Hey, guys, this is Harry my… boyfriend," Peter says, sounding hesitant.

Sam and Clint greet them, and Wanda stands to give them both a hug and coo over how cute they are together. Wade vomits in his mouth.

[PETER HAS A BOYFRIEND! Initiate meltdown, amirite?]

{HAHAHAHA!}

"Who's the silent one?" Wade hears the blond whisper to Peter, and he rolls his eyes.

"'Silent' is one word I've never heard used to describe you, Wade," Clint jokes, and Wade continues biting his tongue.

{HAHAHAHA, oh, man!}

"That's Deadpool, don't know what his problem is. Clint's right, he usually can't keep his thoughts or emotions to himself," Peter says venomously, and Wade gapes at him. He had _never_ heard Peter be a bitch to anyone before, and it kinda stung.

[Yeah, you done fucked up here, Wadels.]

{HAHAHAHAHAHA!}

"Don't know where the rest of the team are, but I guess we have our date to get back to, anyway," Peter says to Harry with a forced smile, and leads him back to the elevator.

"Was nice to meet you all," Harry calls.

"See ya," Clint and Sam say, as Wanda waves goodbye.

"I didn't know Pete was gay," Sam muses after the boys have left.

"Not that it's our business," Wanda says pointedly, "but I don't think he totally is. We've talked a bit about it. He was pretty reluctant to say anything, but I get the feeling there was a guy who broke his heart not long ago."

[WHAT?]

{Oh, man, this is _rich!}_

"Poor kid," Clint says. "Teenagers suck, man."

"Actually, I think it was an older guy," Wanda shrugs, "again, he didn't really want to talk about it much, but I could _feel_ it bugging him, so I offered to alter his emotions a little."

"And?" Sam asks.

"And I couldn't," Wanda replies, sounding frustrated. "Whatever happened was too deep-seated for me to change his emotions."

[Man, you ruined Peter. Good job, solid effort.]

{HAHAHAHAHA! You're the worst.}

"At least he's dating. That's gotta be a good sign, right?" Sam asks.

"I think so," Wanda sighs, "but I can still feel the residual pain…"

"You're surprisingly quiet," Clint observes, nodding at Wade. "Don't have anything snarky to say on the subject of heartbreak?"

"He's a teenager. Worse, a teenage boy. Their brains are the size of peas, and on the one track. He'll get over whatever happened," Wade shrugs, and Wanda gives him a cold look.

"Brutal," Sam chuckles.

"Yeah, well, welcome to the real world," Wade rolls his eyes and gets up to leave.

[So you were right. He was flirting back. He had a big old lesbian crush on you!]

{And you broke his heart! HAHAHA! You're a mess.}

"Good, it's not like it could've gone any other way," Wade snaps at his boxes in the safety of the elevator. "Best to get it out of the way straight up."

{Don’t bother lying to us, pal, we know you woulda torn up that jailbait ass at the first opportunity if it was offered.}

[Yeah, and don't act like you're some Saint for breaking the kid's heart. There's something called 'tact' Wilson, not that you _ever_ had any.]

"Shut the fuck up," he growls. The boxes can -- and will -- say whatever they want, but Wade knows he never would've said or done _anything_ after finding out Peter's age, even with the knowledge that Peter might've been interested in him.

Down in his own apartment, he sighed and got straight into the special liquor Tony had stockpiled for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowow this is so much darker than the OG lmao sorry for that too!
> 
> *Hiatus update: Guys I'm going through a real rough patch at the moment and I've got a lot of things weighing me down and sucking all my creative juices, first and foremost being money problems. I'd really like to start doing commissions, if anyone is interested, that way I can fine tune my writing skills and get back to writing my own stories for pleasure, but right now I'm on permanent hiatus until I stop having a panic attack every three minutes haha*

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my remix, leave me a kudos or a comment if you feel inclined :D <3 x


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